PLEASE READ: So first off, hello. This is my first PLL fic. I want to preface this story by stating that although this story uses characters from the book/show, the plot lines are not exactly the same. Hence, I'm using the character Courtney DiLaurentis, but I'm not using her like she is used in the book. Rather, I'm not doing the whole "twin-switcharoo" thing. That's not my style—too soap opera. This is just a clichéd tale of an evil twin. Yeah, much better, I know.
Please do give this story a chance. Every hit and review is appreciated. Thanks.
NOBODY'S HOME – CHAPTER ONE: PROLOGUE
LATE AUGUST, 2009.
"Jessica, we can't just ship her off. She's our daughter."
"What choice do we have, Kenneth. We've tried everything—therapy, medication, isolation—we can't live like this anymore."
"...Let's just wait until morning. Give her one last night with us."
"Our daughter is scared of her, Kenneth!"
"She is our daughter!"
The fighting and screaming was nothing new in the DiLaurentis house. Since that fateful night fifteen years ago when Courtney and Alison DiLaurentis were born, the late night screaming matches were a regular occurrence. Alison was okay—better than okay. She was well-adjusted, well-liked. She was the perfect little girl. But Courtney was a different story. Since the age of four, the tiny blonde had been wreaking havoc on her family.
It started out innocent enough. Jessica and Kenneth caught their daughter playing with matches in the living room of their home in Georgia. This was a typical antic of a curious child, and the couple was prepared to handle it. That was until they realized that she had left lit matches in almost every room of the house. In a matter of minutes, the life that they had built for themselves burned to the ground while an ecstatic Courtney squealed in delight.
And that was when Kenneth and Jessica made the decision to move to Rosewood, Pennsylvania. They couldn't fabricate a believable story for what caused the fire in their beautiful Victorian-style home, and they certainly couldn't tell their neighbors that now-five-year-old Courtney was responsible. What would they think of them?
They thought that they could leave their daughter's unsavory past by moving to a new place, but they were sorely mistaken. For in a small town, rumors spread fast. A simple instigation of a fight would be enough to tarnish a child's reputation, let alone arson. Instantly, Jessica realized what she had to do. They chose home-schooling for their kindergarten-age daughter, Courtney. Alison would be fine alone in school—better than fine. She was better off without the baggage. And through home-schooling her other daughter, Jessica could better keep an eye on her.
But the fires kept happening and the anger kept brewing. Soon it escalated to the killing and mutilation of small animals, and the next thing Jessica DiLaurentis knew, her darling daughter was put in harm's way. Or rather, Courtney's way. Young Courtney wanted the remote control and Alison stood in her way. Alison's arm was shattered in six places and took ages to heal.
Before long papering up the girl's windows wasn't doing the trick. She wanted to go outside, experience life like other children her age. Neighbors began to question the family about the mysterious, shadowy figure ever-present in their window.
Eventually the questioning from neighbors coupled with her daughter's escalating behavior took its toll and Jessica began looking for other options. Her Google search history was littered with searches for "inpatient adolescent psychiatric care." She began begging her husband to agree with her and allow her to send their daughter away.
"Please. If not for me, do this for our daughter."
"We have two daughters. Don't forget that."
"No, Kenneth. We have one daughter and one monster! I can't deal with her anymore! Yesterday she almost broke my arm when I insisted that she work on her lessons. She's out of control."
Courtney wasn't deaf to the fighting. She heard everything. Initially, she found joy in tormenting her mother. But in recent months her father had become inclined to agree with her Mrs. Whines-A-Lot. She realized that she could be shipped off as early as next week, and that feeling almost terrified her.
Almost.
Courtney was able to contain herself long enough to reach her fifteenth birthday. She celebrated it alone in her bedroom while Alison had a party with her friends downstairs.
Friends. What a waste of time.
But sometimes she would yearn for the life that Alison had. For the friends and the love and the popularity. But that feeling would quickly fade as she realized how fragile life was. It could be taken away from you at an instant. What was the point in getting attached?
Over two months passed after her birthday and Courtney sat alone in her room as always in her typical spot near the vent. She loved to hear her parents' fighting, her sister's useless gossiping and her brother's drugging. But this night was different. The voices were unfamiliar. There was loud arguing and angry yelling. She suddenly heard her sister's voice join the party.
"What the hell are you doing in here?"
The voices faded and Courtney saw them go out to backyard—she followed them.
'Maybe they'll kill her,' she joked to herself.
The arguing reached its peak. Alison bragged about some videos that she had, something that would destroy them. She was about to continue when she heard a branch snap. The group turned their attention to a now-exposed Courtney.
"What do you think you're doing here?" Alison questioned. "The freak convention's inside. Population: you."
"Who's this?" asked a dark haired man with a video camera. "She's hot."
Alison gawked at him and turned her attention back to Courtney.
"No one," she said. "Just my loser sister. Be careful, guys, she's cuh-razy."
The group laughed. Laughed.
"Now go back inside and play with your dollies, crackpot. The adults are talking."
You could say that something inside Courtney DiLaurentis snapped, but that might be an exaggeration. It didn't take much to make her want to kill her sister. It didn't take anything, actually. She'd been practicing for years.
The group of Alison's "friends" weren't expecting the object of their frustration's psycho sister to pull a gun on them. They didn't necessarily go into the situation wanting to kill her. Just rattle her cage a bit. But as the crazed blonde forced her sister to dig her own grave, they realized that might not be necessary. They weren't expecting this to happen, and they certainly weren't expecting Courtney to bash Alison's skull in with a shovel and push her into a shallow grave.
"Who's laughing now?" Courtney said with a demented laugh as she threw clumps of dirt atop her unconscious sister.
After that night, Ian Thomas, Melissa Hastings, Garrett Reynolds and Jenna Marshall vowed to never speak of the events of that night again. The psycho that they met in the DiLaurentis' yard that night killed her own sister for laughing at her. What would she do to them if they ratted her out?
The search for Alison DiLaurentis was unparalleled. They searched everywhere. Everywhere except the very grounds that she lived on. The irony would have killed Courtney had she not been shipped off to a psychiatric hospital in Philly.
You know: deep down inside, Kenneth, Jessica and Jason DiLaurentis knew that their beloved Alison would never be found. They knew that she was dead, and they knew that Courtney killed her. But they had already lost enough for a lifetime and refused to lose the only daughter they had left.